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The Evolving Role of Architect

I grew up in the Midwest. Specifically, Indiana and Illinois. It’s not hard to find good architecture in bigger cities, but in smaller ones, you’ve got to search. So early on I was very influenced by Frank Lloyd Wright and his prairie-style homes, which can be found in abundance across the Midwest. I’ve toured at least a dozen of his homes, churches and museums. His influence on contemporary architecture, home design and construction technology cannot be understated. While touring some of his homes like the Robie House in Chicago and his studio at Oak Park, it quickly became apparent that he was a control freak. In all of the prairie style homes that he designed, it was common for him to design custom furniture, light fixtures, patterned leaded glass windows, carpets and curtains for each.
As I’ve come into the profession, I’ve learned that all architects are control freaks on some level or another, but Wright was the living embodiment of control and unrelenting rigor. His perspective was that you designed for every scenario, every detail—nothing was too minuscule. In his home, he designed built-in furniture so that he could forever control how the family interacted in the living room. In office buildings like the Johnson Wax Headquarters, he designed the furniture systems used by the entire office (yes, they’re still in use today). He even designed the dresses his wife wore. He left nothing to chance.
The role of an architect has been evolving for hundreds of years, but the last century saw a paradigm shift in the control an architect really has over a project. First, architects have less influence over the design. Building technology has increased, products have become specialized, building code has evolved and logistics have become complex beyond the capabilities of just the architectural team. So consultants are hired when expert knowledge is needed. On a large project, there can be consultants for lighting, signage, food service, fire safety, furniture, IT, elevators and prefabrication, to name a few. On one end, I’m glad that I don’t have to calculate the moment of inertia in composite structures or memorize the acoustical attenuation in pre-fabricated wall components, but there is still a level of trust involved when multiple hands touch a single project. And while the end result can often produce a better, more cohesive project – the ability to orchestrate the built environment and user experience from beginning to end is lost.
For example, six years ago I worked at a firm for a summer internship and spent most of my time constructing physical models for a hospital addition. I re-built the main model twice and had roughly a dozen iterations of what the entry canopy could be. We took in our best ideas to the hospital chairman, got the thumbs up on one of the canopies and left feeling quite happy about his decision. After we were gone, he asked the opinion of his interior designer. She said, “Oh, well if you ask me, the canopy should be circular, wouldn’t that be nice?” She proceeded to pitch her case for a different, semi-circular design. The architectural team didn’t propose any concepts like that (for good reason), but that’s how the decision was made. The suggestion was made behind our backs without giving us an opportunity to respond to the criticism. The final design didn’t look horrible, but it didn’t look half as good as some of the designs that we had spent weeks crafting. A good consultant will try to work with the architectural team to re-enforce the overall concept, but sometimes it doesn’t work out that way.
Second, architects have far less control over how the client uses the building. For example, it’s becoming more common for companies to award architects with commissions that only include the design of the core and shell of office building. The company will then hire another interior design group to do the “tenant improvements.” It’s almost as if the client is saying “We’ve got it from here—don’t worry about how we’re going to fill everything up, we’ll figure it out!” But we do worry because we care. Sometimes this “handoff” happens in a very integrated, collaborative fashion. Sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it’s like giving your child away to a new set of parents to be raised, and as designer, you’re left unsettled by the result.